God's Will
by SingleMinded
Summary: Rewrite Chapter 1 for grammars. A long lost son is trying to find his family back. Can he get their loves before his time is over? Dean 25, Sam 21. AU. Deancentric. Warning, this is a deathfic!
1. The Miracle

**AN1**: This is totally a non-supernatural story. A story about family, a normal family like ours. So, maybe Sam, Dean or John is out of characters. Just a bit. And Mary too, but I don't think anybody knows her true character. And for my first fanfiction ever, hope you like it. Please review. You will make my day.

**AN2: **This chapter is not betaed but I rewrite it, again, nothing changed in plots, just some grammars. I'm not from US. English is not my first language. I hope I found all the mistakes but if there are still some, I'm sorry.

**Summary**: A long lost son trying to find his family back. Can he get their loves before his time is over? Dean 25, Sam 21. AU. Deancentric. Warning deathfic!

**Disclaimer**: My lawyer said I can't have them but I can borrow them for a while, Dean, Sam and anything you recognize are not mine. They belong to the genius Kripke and The CW. But Alan Smith is totally mine. To the story…

**Chapter I**

**The Miracle**

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

_Present, California_…

Sam sighed. He looked up at the blue sky. _What a good day_. No rain and not really hot either. But still he felt so damn tired and hot and sweating a lot. _God,I hate this_. Looked down and wiping his hands with a towel, he raised his head up again. Then suddenly big drops of water wetted his face and shirt, left him soaked in shocked.

"Ow dad. Come on. You are not five!" he ducked beside the SUV, trying to get away from the splashing water. At the other side, John Winchester just grinning with his hands gripped the water host, ready to attack once again.

"I will be if you keep mumbling and complaining. It's not everyday that I ask you to wash my car." Sam Winchester just sighed again while his dad's grin grew wider.

"Besides you are taller than me. I can't even get my hand over the roof of the car." John said, watching the six foot four frame stood up from his ducking. _Man, that boy is really a freaking tall ass. Thank God he's 21. Maybe he will stop growing up now_.

"Yeah I'm taller, by 2 inches. And don't keep that lie on me. Even a 5' 9" can reach over that roof. Or maybe you can go to the car wash like you always did." Sam at his best tried to put an angry face. But the fake grim became an annoyed one when his Dad started to splash the water again.

"Dad!" Sam was trying to move behind the vehicle when his father just laughing out loud.

"Dad just stop! Da.." Sam stood straight when suddenly his father became silent.

"Dad?" Sam watched his father just stood there, dropping the water host on the ground and looked somewhere at the back of his standing form. He followed his father's gaze to the next door house.

"Huh, looks like we gonna have a new neighbour." Sam said with a small grin on his face.

There was a young man opened his backdoor of his car, trying to take a few boxes out. One look at the young man, he was fit enough to take care of all the boxes by himself. But what kind of neighbours are you if you just ignored your new neighbourhood member. His father who was already half the way to the young man looked back at him with what-the-hell-are-you-doing-there-just-looking-at-the-new-neighbour-like-nothing-happened face. Sam let out a chuckle and made his steps out.

"Hi" John with a sincere smile said to the young man before him. Trying to take out another box, the young man stopped in the middle and straightened his figure.

"Oh, hi" The young man said. John studied the young man while reaching him. That was what he used to do since years ago when he still a marine. The young man, standing about 6' or an inch more, fine built, not skinny but not even fat, just muscles, with a clean face, a beautiful face actually, smiled at him. _He must be just a few years older than Sammy._

"I'm John Winchester, this is my son, Sammy. You are Mr. Smith right?" John said, taking his hand out. A little shock written in the young man's face, even Sam's raised his eyebrows at his father but managed to mumble "It's Sam."

"Hmm... yeah. But how do you know that?" The young man shook both the father's and son's hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not a psychic, wish I am..."

"Dad..." Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Oh… yeah. Two days ago, the truck's driver, I mean the truck with your goods. The driver said a Smith family will move in here." John gave a small smile while looking at the young man's eyes. _Okay, that just kind of weird coincident, his eyes look a lot like Mary's… and Dean's._

"Yes, that must be, Dad. So, we are here, we can help you move in, Mr. Smith." Sam said, facing at both men in front of him. His father nodded, agreeing with his statement.

"Hmm, it's not much boxes, but a few help is okay if you don't mind."

"Aww, we are neighbours are we, Mr. Smith?" Sam gave a wide grin and reaching down a box at his feet. John just did the same.

"Thanks, and by the way, don't call me Mr. Smith, feel like I'm old. Just call me Dean"

o0o0o0o

_Two months earlier, Texas…_

"Mr. Smith, it's being two weeks now. He's getting weaker and weaker every moment. He's not even responds to our treatments anymore. At this state, there is nothing we can do. Maybe if we…" Dr. Harris cut his voice shut when the middle age man in front of him just glared with red teary eyes. The same eyes he got a couple days ago when he was trying to say the same opinion, 'shut off the ventilator and let the young guy died in peace'.

"I said I'm not giving up on him. He's in coma but not dead. Don't ask me again, or I swear…" Alan Smith shook his head, closing his eyes and took a long deep breath, trying to calm himself down from saying horrible words. The doctor was innocent. He did nothing except trying to save his son's life. For two weeks he became more and more different. Like he was not himself anymore. How could he be if every single day he just sat there beside his son's bed, talking to a still figure, hoping for a miracle, for a chance to see the beautiful eyes again, to hear the happy laugh like before. He tried to control himself, to push the fear away, fear to lose the only person left in his life. But Dean just laid there, becoming weaker and weaker, worsened his fear.

"I'm sorry, sir. You are right, it's not an option. I know how you feel but I hope you prepared for any possibility. We…"

The conversation was interrupted by a loud sound from the machines surrounded Dean's bed. The number on the monitor was dropping fast with the wave moving crazily. At the look of his patient's condition, Dr. Harris moved beside the bed, checking the the boy's condition.

"What's happening?" Alan asked but he knew nobody could hear him because he didn't even hear his own voice but he was sure it was shaking. Nurses and hospital's attendants were rushing besides him, but he just standing there and looked at Dean's pale face.

"BP's dropping!" Dr. Harris alarmed voice sent a chill to his spine. Medical words flew through the room but he just heard a long beep sound. Dean was not breathing. His son just stopped breathing. The fact sent him back to the real world.

"Dean!" _No! No! No! This is not happening!_

"Dean!" he tried to cut the distance to give a good look at his son but a big hand stopped him on a halt.

"Sir, you need to stay outside." He didn't even looked at the attendant face but he felt his legs walking backward toward the door.

"Start charging to 200…" and that was the last thing he heard before the door closed.

He moved to the wall beside the door, his right hand supporting his body before he took a sit there. Then he just dropped his head with his left hand touching his closed eyes and he started crying. For over twenty years since his last tears, now, he didn't bother to care about the other persons along the corridor, he just let the tears dropped, wetting his face.

Half an hour went away. Alan just sat there looked at nothing. His eyes reddened from the tears which no longer there. The busy event where nurses and doctors bursting in and out of his son's room was long gone, like he wasn't even there. _He will be okay. Dean will be okay. Dean will be okay_. His mind continued to play the mantra.

"Mr. Smith" a firm hand on his shoulder snapped his mind. He looked up at the younger doctor. A small smile plastered on the face. _He smile. That must be a good sign_. Alan stood up, balancing the eyes level.

"He… he's okay, right?" he knew but he needed to be certain.

"Yes, he's okay. Better than I thought." Alan let out the breath he didn't even know he held.

"So, what happened just now? That must be something, right? A heart didn't give up for nothing," he still remembered the sound which dancing in his mind with Dean just laid there so still.

Dr. Harris looked at the man in front of him. Wearing a plain white shirt which no longer in, completed with a slack pant and a pair of black shoes, there was a line of tie hung out a little from his pocket. His sandy grey hair messed up and with black bags under his eyes, this man looked so tired. Everyday after working hours, he would be here beside his son. Sometimes this man took a few days off from work just to be here. That was the only thing he did since he admitted his son three weeks ago. And it became worse when that Dean boy shut himself off into a coma two weeks ago. And above all the things happened, he just saw love in this man's eyes. This sometimes made him wonder about his own children. How much he hoped they knew that he love them so much.

"He just stopped breathing. That is what happened. But we got him back and for a miracle, his eyes just snapped open." There was amazement in the doctor's voice. Alan stared him for a few moments, trying to process the whole thing.

"He… he was? I mean he's awake?"

"Yes, he's awake now. And the ventilator was being shut off. He's breathing on his own now. I never saw something like this. I'm your son's physician for a year and a half and I have lot of cancer's patients before him. When their bodies started to shut down, they just followed the rules, never get better. But this is a miracle. Your son's a real fighter." Dr. Harris said while moving both hands into the pockets.

"You don't know how true it is. So, what about the cancer?"

"We need to do the test again," Alan watched the doctor, trying to read the face but failed. So he just took a deep breath and cleared his throat before asking, "Can I see him?"

"Yes, of course. You must be relieved, he looks better than before. I'll be back in an hour for the test."

Alan rushed his legs into the room. Dr. Harris was right, he was more than relieved, he felt great. There was no more tube running down Dean's throat like before, now it was just a small cannula attached to his nose, helping him to breath. There were still a few machines there linked to wires under Dean's hospital gown. A nurse adjusted the IV drips and passing by him with a sincere smile. He smiled back before pulled the chair and sitting down beside his son. The doctor said he was awake but the eyes still closed.

He reached over to touch the young man's forehead. And for a second time this day, he felt so happy when the eyes before him slowly started to open.

"Dad" a rough voice came out from Dean's lips. He shaped a small smile to his father which turned out to be more like a smirk. Alan chuckled.

"Yeah Dean, it's me. You freak me out just now, and that's not so funny okay." From the forehead, he brushed down the short blond hair.

"I know, I'm sorry." Dean closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the touched his father gave him, made him felt alive again.

"Yeah, I don't like it but there is nothing to be sorry, okay? So how do you feel today?" Dean's eyes opened to the question.

"Okay, just tired of sleeping for a long time. The doc said I was out for two weeks. But I don't feel like it. But you do looks like shit, dad." They both chuckled. Alan looked at the beautiful face in front of him. He still lacked of colors but much better than a pale face he remembered before. The young man used to be a boy he missed so much, now at 25, he was a handsome young man, looked more as a man than a boy.

"So, what happened to my baby? Is she okay?" the sudden question pulled Alan's thought for a while.

"Oh, that is so you. Don't worry about her. She purrs everyday along the road to my office. Even my Benz felt jealous when I started to ignore her."

"Ow, Dad. Just don't take her heart from me. Benz is enough for you."

So they chatted and laughed a lot beyond the state Dean is. It didn't stay longer when Dr. Harris came with an attendant and a wheelchair to take him for the test. Alan promised he will be there when everything's done.

------

"_Nothing happened. He's not getting better. The cancer is still there. And just like before, it can't be manageable. No treatment can do anything. But it's not getting any worse either. Physically he seems fine like the cancer was gone but it's still there, doing nothing. I don't know what to say about this because I never saw one before. Like it's holding on its own."_

That was three days ago. Dr. Harris came out with the result the next morning after Dean was awake from his coma.

Dean shoved the last shirt into the bag. Alan was finishing all the procedures to check him out and still not coming back from the counter. Yesterday there was quite an argument between them. He just wanted to go home because he knew there was nothing they could do anymore. But his father didn't believe him, didn't believe that there was no more treatment. But as always, he won. Besides he was really felt fine. No more short breath, no sharp chest pain, no headache. His breathing was fine. His lung was fine. Everything was fine like he never suffered lungs cancer. Maybe Dr. Harris was right. The cancer was holding on its own, waiting for something, giving him time.

Alan stood at the door frame and looked at his son. For three days Dean was not much talking, like he was thinking about something. Yesterday he talked again but not a common talk, just asking to go home until they came up with an argument. But at last, he gave up. Maybe he better give something for his son, whatever he needed when they still have time. Thinking about time, he felt chill ran down his spine.

"Hey son, you sure about this?" Alan walked into the room, standing beside the bed. Dean raised his head a little to look at his dad at the other side of the bed.

"Yeah dad. I'm sure."

_He's not happy like this is not what he wanted. Something is not right._

"Dean, are you okay? Why am I feeling that you are not? Something you want to talk about?" Dean stopped packing when he heard the question. He sighed. _Just ask him damn it. This is the chance._ Pushing the bag aside, he sat down on the bed, facing his back to his father. Alan walked around the bed and stood in front of the young man.

"What is it?" he heard Dean took a deep breath, looking down at his hands before opening his mouth.

"You…" he hesitated for a moment, thinking. Then he raised his head, green hazel eyes looking straight to the elder eyes before continued.

"I'm not your son right?"

o0o0o0o

_Present, California_…

"So, where're the other Smiths?" Sam put down his last box on the floor. His dad caught him up with another one. Sam looked at Dean who was arranging the boxes to a corner so there was more room in the middle.

"There are no other Smiths. Just one more Smith." Dean smirked, thinking about what he just said.

"Oh, so you are… married?" Sam with a raised eyebrows, staring at the man who maybe just three or four years older than him. He rubbed his chin when he still didn't get the picture that this man was a husband. He didn't look like a husband. Not a bit. Maybe he looked like a chick's magnet but not a husband. No way.

"You are?" same as his son, John was sound shocked. Dean couldn't help but chuckled, looking at the shocking faces in front of him.

"Of course I'm not. It's my dad. He's moving in with me but he need to take care of something first. Maybe he will join us in a week."

"Oh" John and Sam said in unison.

"Ehm… wait for a second," Dean moved to a small box on the couch and took out three bottles of mineral water. He handed them one for each.

"I'm sorry, there is nothing yet in the fridge. Just this… plain unfruit juice." John laughed a little at the chosen word. _Okay I started to like him_.

"Yeah, that's okay. When we first moved here a few years ago, my mom didn't cook for a couple of days because my dad didn't want to go shopping for groceries. We ended up eating pizza or at the diner." Sam opened his bottle and gulped a little water.

"No I'm not. I'm working. I just don't have time." John was trying to look hurt.

"Yeah, like I don't remember. You took three days off before you started to work. And since when do you have a boss to give you permission. You work at your own workshop, dad." Sam pitched his lips together.

"Did I? Err… I forgot." John grinned and Sam just rolled his eyes. Dean smirked, looking at the father and son. And suddenly there was a warm feeling rushing down his body, a feeling that made him so nervous but pleasure at the same time.

"So, Dean, why don't you have a dinner with us tonight? My wife would never bother. Better than alone." John tried to mask his face. Saying that boy's name really made him flinched a little if not much. Just now, when the young man said his name, he felt like somebody hit him on the face. _How ironic is that, he got the same eyes and he got the same name. _

"Yeah, that must be great." Not aware of his father's reaction, Sam said with light eyes. He didn't have much friends in the neighbourhood. His high school's friends now were all over the country, furthering their studies just like him. But he was lucky when he got a full ride to Stanford, just half an hour drive from his home. _Maybe I can hang out with this Dean guy. He seems nice though_.

"Err… you guys think its okay to ask a stranger? You don't know me. What if I'm a bad guy? What if I'm a drug dealer? Or a fugitive? Or even a serial killer? I'm a capable man you know?" Dean raised his right eyebrow with a grin.

"Now I know you are a good kid. A bad guy usually just asked once. What if I'm a serial killer? Then no more, or a fugitive? Or a drug dealer?" John said with a wide winning grin.

Dean chuckled a little more while Sam just shook his head. "Okay you got me on that."

"I'll take that as a yes. Well Dean, see you tonight." John said took out his hand.

"Yeah see you all tonight. Thanks a lot guys." Dean shaking both John's and Sam's hand and the Winchesters stepping out of the house. Dean closed the door before leaning against it. A smile formed on his face. _This is just the first step. _

**TBC**

**SM**

**AN: Guys, REVIEW PLEASE... (make a double puppy dog eyes)**


	2. Turning Point

**A/N : **Okay, I know it's a long wait for this update. I'm soooo sorry guys. But hell, after I finished my study, I back home. With a sister as a roomate, I lost my privacy. Everybody keep in and out of the room, peeping behind my back to see what the hell this unemployed jerk typing on computer. I can't do this in front of them. It's privacy, you know.

And by the way, this new chapter was beta'ed by PadfootObsessed329. Girl, you ROCKSSSSS!!! Thanks a lot. So, here we go, all the mistakes are mine.

**Disclaimer : **see chapter 1.

**Chapter II**

**Turning Point**

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

_Present; Palo Alto, California…_

"Sammy, would you please set the table?" Mary flashed a smile to her son. That giant boy kept looking every now and again into her boiling gravy. She knew if she stepped away an inch from the pot, the gravy will lost a few spoons. There was already a bowl of mashed potatoes besides him since she had let him mash all the potatoes. She should know well enough when he asked her sweetly to help her mash the potatoes.

"Dad wants to set the table," he said with a decent look. If she didn't know him well, she would buy that without thinking.

"I'm asking you and I know your dad will never willing set the table himself," she said holding back a laugh at her son's sad puppy dog's eyes. Widening her eyes to state her point, he gave up with a sigh and grabbed four plates from the rack. As soon as her son stepped away, heavy footsteps reach her spot from behind.

"Everything okay here?" John kissed her lightly on the lips. Taking the hot pot from Mary's hand and putting it on the table next to him.

"Hmm… except your son's trying to steal the desert first." She gave him a meaningful look which put a smile on his face. He had never felt happier after looking at Mary's smiling face. And each time he looked at her, she reminded him how lucky he is to have a wife like her, a son like Sammy, a family like them. Her face, her smile, her eyes… _her eyes_… in a flick of a second, that boy's face flashing in his mind. _Dean Smith… his eyes really looked like her's._

"John"

"Huh?" he startled a little. He gave a small smile, but she could read him like a book and she knew something was not okay with her husband. His face just changed in a pace of wind. And he just looked into her eyes but 'not into her eyes'. She never saw him like that, not for a very long time. _For a long good years. But why now?_ Suddenly her heart started beating fast.

"John, honey… are you okay?" she reach for her husband's hand while her eyes search the face before her, looking for something. Something to convince her that he wasn't doing what she thought he was.

"Yeah… I'm okay. Just…"

"John, you scared me. You are not…"

"No, I'm not," he cut her sentence, knowing what she was going to ask him. He put his hands on her shoulders, squeezed a little with a small smile plastered on his lips.

"I just… you know. Sometimes I'd think about him, like always. Today, it's a little different. But no, I swear it's not like that. I'd never be like that again." He said, looking straight to her face, trying to make her believe.

"Okay, but what do you mean different?" she asked.

He just open his mouth to voice his mind when the buzzer rang, told them to stop.

"I got it," they could hear Sam's voice greeting the guest. John looked at her again.

"I'll tell you tonight," she nodded at her husband.

John move away from her to greet the new neighbour, he still felt a little uneasy but for everybody's sake, he pushed the feeling away. But at the same time, he just wanted Mary to meet that boy. Wanted to prove to himself that he was not the only one feeling that way about this boy.

John turned the corner into the living room. Mary was not far behind him, putting the last part of the meal on the table. And there was the young man, with blue jeans, grey plain shirt and a red outer shirt. Talking with a full smile at Sam, the same type of smile he kept her wife away from when they were still a young couple back then. Thinking about that, he can't help but let out a chuckle.

"Hi Mr. Winchester. Sorry I didn't bring anything, I fell asleep after you guys left. When I woke up I barely had time to clean myself up. Sorry…" Dean drove out his hand, shaking John's.

"Nah, it's okay, son. You don't have to." John gave a small pat on Dean's shoulder with a reassuring smile. "Oh, and this is my wife, Mary." he stepped aside, give a way for his wife to greet their guest.

"Mary, this is Dean Smith, our new neighbour."

The second she saw that face while approaching him, she swore something hit her lightly, like a deja-vu, and sent a weird feeling crawling down her body. _Do I know him? Something's familiar about him._

"Hi," the voice dragged her back to reality.

"Oh, welcome to the neighbourhood." Mary gave him a small smile. But from her face, John could tell that she was thinking about something else, since she saw the face. _Looks like I'm not the only one._

"So, why don't we have our dinner already?" Sam who just looking at them all the time voiced a point which made them all nod in once.

------

"I open up a workshop not far from here. Not a bad run. I don't know if there is a curse or something but there're always dead cars everyday. Should take a good care of the Impala out there." John said mocking a wicked smile to Dean while took the bucket of bread from his wife.

"Whoa! No way. Nothing happened to her as long as I'm the owner." Dean gave a wide smile proudly.

"So, you love cars?"

"Yeah. Love them so much, especially muscle cars. I know about the engine but I'm not really an expert. Just enough to take care of my baby by myself."

"I do understand that. Old engines are good. I used to have an Impala, long time ago before… hmm… by the way, I sold her for some reason." John looked at her wife and their eyes met for a second with a deep meaning.

"Err… guys. Can we talk about something else, beside cars?" Sam gave an annoyed look. Dean let out a small chuckle. Mary just shook her head.

"Oh, sorry Sam. I know you don't love cars, but do we have to talk about Jess everytime we have dinner?" John bursting into laughter when his comment made Sam blush. Mary smiled but gave her husband a small tap, "John…"

"Okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." sipping his juice before turning to Dean. "So, son, what are you doing now? You work or something?"

"Actually I'm a transfer student from Texas. I'll start my second year pre-law school this coming new semester at Stanford." Dean said calmly. _Damn, I must be drunk. Me? Pre-law? Not a good fit. Hell, but I need to play it around. They will never know as long as you put a good act, Dean._

"Wow! That's creepy. What a coincidence. You are my new neighbour this evening and now you told me that we are going to be classmates? Err… but you're kinda a little old for a pre-law." Sam looked at his mom who looked at him with a watch-your-mouth face. "Oh, sorry man."

"It's okay. That's cool. And yeah you're right. I'm 25. You're suppose to be 20 or 21, right? I worked with my uncle after high school before I decided to give college a try. Then my dad got a good offer from the company's branch here. But you know, it's just the two of us. So I said, why not if I move along with him. And here I am." _Yeah, here you are Dean. Lied to them right on their faces. Just hope that this is a right move._

------

Dean turned on the bathroom light. Looked at his face in the mirror, he shove a light smile. Satisfied. A full feeling warmed down his heart. After having spent quite a time with the Winchesters tonight, he just felt so happy. _What a wonderful moment. Wish I knew them a lot earlier._ He took a glass from the rack and filled it with water. His right hand opened the cabinet above the sink and took out a small plastic case with seven lids. He unfastened the last lid, and six different pills and capsules with numerous colors and shapes fell down to his left palm. _Well Dean, back to real life again._ With a gulp of water, the medicines ran down his throat. That was when his phone started ringing. After finishing the glass of water, he was running a little into the bedroom to the agitated phone.

"Hey dad."

"Hey son? How are you?" his dad sounded calm, as always.

"Good. So when will you come down here?"

"I don't know yet. Maybe a few more days. So, did you take your medicines yet?" Dean chuckled. Even with 500 miles separated, he can clearly pictured the old green eyes looking at him with love and concern.

"Yeah dad. I took them just before you called. And yeah I remember, I will fill up the bottles first thing tomorrow, dad. And third yeah, I'm fine today. No chest pain, no cough, nothing. Just don't worry too much okay," Dean can hear a small laugh at the end of the line. He can't help but smiled himself.

Since three years ago, after getting diagnosed with the cancer, surviving with a full recovery and then back again with a new tumor, his life and Alan's changed too much. From questions like 'How's your day, sport?' or 'I signed a big client today, you want to celebrate together?' every evening after school and working hours, his dad constantly asked questions about his health first. The first couple months, he shut himself down, depressed, completely out of the outside world. He took a semester break from college and ignored everything. And Alan's questions annoyed him too much. Until one day, when he refused to go to the hospital for a chemo session, his dad, who always put a tough face for his sake, broke down crying. That was the moment, when he realized that his life was not all about him. There was still somebody who needed him more than himself, who loved him more than anything. He started to see life different. Everything happened for a reason.

"Dean?"

"Uhh… sorry dad. Just thought about something else." He could hear the coming question. "And before you ask again, I'm fine dad."

"Good. Keep it that way. And…" Alan hesitated for a moment. "…how's your family? You talked to them yet?"

"Yeah. They helped me moved in. And we had a dinner together." The silence at the other line made him flinched. "Dad, you really okay with all of this? I mean-" Alan cut him off before he could finish.

"Yes, son. I'm… I'm happy for you. Just, you know. I… Never mind. Well, it's late. I'll call you tomorrow. Take care of yourself okay. Love you, _son_." Dean closed his eyes at the full emotion voice when his dad called him 'son'.

"I love you too, dad." With a click, he pushed the button. Keeping his eyes closed, he laid down on the bed, whispering a pray in his head. Praying for a better day, praying for a time, time for him to make a better life, to give him a lot more meaningful moments, before he closes his eyes forever.

o0o0o0o

_January 24, 1984, Syracuse, Kansas…_

"Daddy! Daddy! I've got something!" John turned to look at the blonde five-year-old birthday boy who struggled with enthusiasm at the other end of the boat to pull his fishing rod. On the surface of the water, he can clearly saw a medium size fish also struggling with enthusiasm to get away from his son. A proud grin shone on his face. _I'm sorry Mr.Fishy, my boy will never let you go._

"Whoa! Careful Dean." John shouted, a small warning escaped when he saw Dean start to stand up. In a few second, he was beside his son helping him with the rod. Standing in a small boat which was unstable because of the motion they made and aided by the waves of the river was not a good move. Not at all. The stunt Dean put earlier caught him off guard a little. A week ago, his friend James Ferguson invited them for a barbeque party to introduce his new fiancé. Dean found out that James has a boat and made John promise to take him fishing for his birthday. If not because of the birthday, there was not a chance he would have made that promise.

Dean at the other hand, showed not even a tiny hint of fear. Instead, he giggled, kneeling at the side of the boat, pushed his cap backward before gripping the fishing line to pull up the dancing fish into the boat. His green hazel eyes sparkling with eagerness at his first catch. But then a small 'huh' delivered from the cute lips. John eyeing him suspiciously. Still ignoring his dad, Dean started to make a move. Crawling on top of his father's lap, the small hand took something from the other side of John. A fish. His dad's fish. The only fish they got before. John didn't have to wait for next step. He knew exactly what his son was doing. And he never felt so proud, and humored.

"I win daddy! My fish is bigger than yours!" a smirk end up with a hard laugh from Dean. _Man, what did I do to deserve such a wonderful kid?_

"My fish is for Sammy." And a wonderful big brother. "He loves fish." Then he mumbled something about his seven months old little brother but John couldn't hear him. Dean loved his brother too much. Yesterday, along the way from Lawrence to Syracuse, John took a good ten minutes to explain to his son, why they can't take Sammy with them.

"_Why daddy?"_

"_I told you aready, he's not big enough Dean. He can't look out for himself."_

"_I can look out for him. He can call me if he needs help, right Sammy?" Dean tickled Sammy's nose ,who was sitting in the infant seat. Little Sammy giggled and clapped his hands happily. "Dede… Dede" Mary couldn't help but laugh. "Well John, he sure can call his brother for help." John gave a thanks-for-not-helping glare at his wife._

"_No Dean. Besides, it's your birthday. I want to spend my time just with you, can you give me that?" thinking for a few seconds, Dean gave a nod._

"_Ok."_

Dean was a good son. Just ask him politely, and he will do whatever you asked him to do. And everytime he's too out of control, John would use the loyalty psychologically.

"Daddy" John tilted his head at Dean.

"What is it Dean?"

"Can I take this off dad? It's too tight…" his little hands try to undo his orange life jacket.

"No, Dean. You need to wear that jacket. Safety first Dean."

"But I don't like it. It's itching." That's when he clearly saw the reason why Dean's jacket was so uncomfortable. He did the belts incorrectly and made the jacket bumping at the back and shoulders.

"Let me fix it." he start to undo the jacket. Left the jacket open for a while, John looked down to move the fishing rods away to get a better position in the shaking boat. But then Dean's voice made him looked up.

"Daddy…" John's heart twitching at the fear looks in Dean's eyes. He followed the kid's gaze behind him.

"Oh my God!" there are a flow of timbers speeding to them. The waves became more aggressive. John can scarcely hold on to his place.

"Dean, take my hand!" Before he can barely touch the fingers, he felt like a big giant hand knocked him at the back. In a split second, he was down in the water, holding breaths, tried not to drown. _Dean!!! No!!_

With a little help from his own life jacket, he pushed himself out on the surface. Still gasping for air, he moved his head wildly around. _No!_ He can't see his son. _No!_

"Daddy!!" a plea asked for him. He turned a few rounds before he saw the orange jacket twenty foot from him. Dean struggled to float beyond his unfasten life jacket.

"Dean!" he swung his arms, tried to swim faster to his son. _I'm coming Dean!_

"I'm coming Dean! Hold on!" splashed by water, he still could see the frightened eyes, full of panic, gasping for oxygen but still looking at him, hoping for his hero to help him, save him from the nightmare.

"Da… daddy!"

_I'm coming Dean! I'm coming!_

He tried to be faster but he couldn't. Out from his eyesight, a big timber was headed for him. Before he could take another swing, his vision started to blur, his head pounding hard. _No! Dean…_

"Daddy…" Dean's voice faded out, the last thing he saw before blackness overtook his vision. Sad frightened eyes, full of hope, a hope that started to washed out along with the water flow. _Dean…_

_I'm sorry Dean. I'm sorry…_

_I failed you._

------

…_Dean…_

"He's awake!"

_Where am I? Where is Dean?_

"Sir, open your eyes." A stranger with a white coat. Blur. _What happened?_ Then suddenly everything started to rush through him. The fish. The boat. The timbers. Water. Drown. Dean.

"Dean!!"

"Sir, calm down. You're at St. Agnes Hospital." A charming nurse tried to explain the situation.

"Where my son? Where's Dean?"

"You've been brought here alone sir. A man saw your boat tipped down and he saw your life jacket. He saved you. Can you remember your name?"

"Where is he? I need to talk to him!" the urge in his voice sent them jumping back. He felt sorry but at the moment, he really didn't care. He needed his son. A few minutes later, a guy around his age, rough unshaven face but with a soft eyes stood in the room. John took a deep breath.

"Where's my son?"

"I'm sorry. I just found you. I never saw your son. I didn't even know..."

"He was wearing a friggin' orange jacket damn it! Didn't you saw him?!" the guy seems offended. John sighed. "I'm sorry. I just… I just need to find him." John started to pull the IV.

"Sir, you're not doing so well. Besides I don't think you can find…" the doctor just offering his life when he got a death glare from John.

"What are you saying?" a cold voice.

"It's… it's been five hours." It's not the doctor but the rough guy who reply.

"Wha…" he can feel his heart breaking with every word. The guy had just told him that there was no way he could find his son, _alive. _Tears started to run down his face, the same thing that was happening to his soul, breaking, leaving, lost in the wind. _No… Dean…_

"No… Dean…"

o0o0o0o

_Present…_

"DEAN!!!!!" he woke up. Breathing fast. Sweating all over his face, along with loud thumps from his heart.

"John…" he turned to that voice. Mary with a concerned face, looked at him, a hand firmly put on his shoulder. He laid back. Eyes fixed on the ceiling. _Why now?_ He dragged his left fingers fully closed his eyes with them. Then a small hiccup roused slowly on the unravel emotional night. Mary wrapped her arms around her husband, smoothly places her head on his shoulder. And they keep mourning for their late son until the sleep overtook with exhausted.

------

He heard. He knew. They told him once but never then. He used to ask but not anymore. He believed someday, they'd tell him everything. A story about Dean Winchester. His brother.

**TBC**

**SM**

**A/N : So, what do you think? I don't really like this chapter but I need this plot to be said. I just finished my rough plot. And I love the end of this story so much. I don't think the next chapter will take a long time to update like this one. Please review. Love them a lot. **


	3. I'm A Winchester

**AN1:** First off all, this chapter is not betaed because my beta reader is kind of busy right now but I'm going to replace this once I can get in touch with her. So, all mistakes are mine. And one more thing, the first chapter was rewrite but I just changed some grammar, not the plot because I think I write better now.

**AN2: **Sorry for a long hiatus. And thanks for the reviews guys. I hope all of you already have my reply. Thank you sooooo much.

**AN3:** You will find some facts about Dean in this chapter that are too good to be true, but guys, this is a fiction, so give it some slack. Hehehehe... And I'm not from US, so if you find something that is not true about some places, just ignore them all right. PLEASE REVIEW. PLEASE!!!!!!!!!!

**Summary & Disclaimer: **See Chapter 1

**Chapter III**

**I'm a Winchester**

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

_Two months earlier, County Hospital, Texas…_

"_I'm not your son, right?"_

Alan stunned. His face was white. He was really not prepared for the unexpected question. If truth to be told, that was a question he tried so hard not to think or even amble in his mind for a second. A question he scared so much.

"Dad." At a look at his son's face, he tried to smile even when he knew it was obviously disingenuous.

"Huh, you… you were joking right? Okay, let's try another question," he said nervously. Dean frowned at his father's demeanor. _He smile but I can see right through it._

"Dad, please…"

Alan rubbed his face with his right hand and heaved a sigh. He pulled the nearby chair, sat in and put his hand firmly on Dean's jeans coated knee. Inhaling a long shaken breath and with a strong unwilling afford, he looked up, once again fixing his old green eyes to the younger ones. His trembling heart was questioning his mind for the next thing to say. _Am I really going to lose him?_

"Dean," he hesitated. _You're not my son._ _No_. _I'd never say that._ He changed his chosen words. "How… how do you know that?"

Dean closed his eyes for a moment before stared down his hands. He really didn't know how to feel. He was swinging between sad and relieved. Sad because the person in front of him, a man he loved, a man he proud of to call Dad, was not essentially his father. But relieved because finally, the question that kept knocking his mind these past three days finally loose even with a predictable hurt answer. He bit his lower lip before opening his mouth to reply "I remember them."

"What?" Alan waved out his confusing thought.

"When I was out in coma back then, I had a dream. I mean I thought it was a dream but something told me that it wasn't. It was my memory dad." Dean looked at his father's reaction before continue, "In that dream, I saw myself. Maybe three or four years old when I saw a woman kissed me goodnight as she tucked me in. And I watched her taught me how to write my name. Some other time, I saw myself ran down a backyard, throwing football with a man. And he kept calling me _little chief_."

"Your parent." A sad voice whispered from Alan.

"I thought so. And it felt so familiar, dad. Then, I saw a baby. The only time I heard my voice in my dream was when I called the baby. I called him Sammy."

o0o0o0o

_Present, Stanford University, California…_

"Sammy!" Sam stopped once he heard the voice. He rolled his eyes while Jessica looked at him with amusement. "Sammy… oh how cute" she giggled. He turned around just to see Dean jogged to get him.

"You know what Dean, once again you call me that, _we_ are not friend anymore."

"Huh? Chill okay. Besides, it's not my fault. Your mom gave me the green light." When Sam pouted, Dean smirked and waved his hand. "All right, whatever man. And I'm lost. Where's the hell room… whoa!" Sam's big hand pulled him into an opened lecture hall's door from behind.

_Okay, it's not a room, it's a hall. I got a wrong schedule._

"Don't forget we are classmates all right." Sam whispered to him and put a fake smile. They stepped down the stairs to get to the middle seats.

"Yeah, I know you might want me to stick with you. You already told me you like me, right?" Sam rolled his eyes at the comment. _God, please help me._

He really regretted what he said a week ago. When he offered to show the place to Dean, they drove down the town with the Impala, chatted about all things they love. They even stopped by Jess's apartment and introduced Jessica and Dean to each other. And out of the blue, he told Dean how much he loved to have a brother, just to chat something like they did, maybe have a road trip across the country, playing pranks to each other and other stuff. Because sometimes, he needed to admit that it was lonely to be an only child, even with awesome parent. And to begin his nightmare, he told Dean somehow their new relationship gave him a feeling of being a brother. And since then Dean started to tease him about that. It was annoying but honestly, he didn't mind. Because deep down he can clearly see how much Dean appreciated what he said. Besides, he knew Dean was an only child too, just like him. He surely understood that.

Now it was more than two weeks since Dean joined the neighbourhood. For Sam's amazement, Dean settled in so fast. His formality faded day by day. He got to know Dean better and they had fun a lot, it was like they already knew each other for a long time. Dean was funny and what made things better, Dean was not a guy who always put a joke in all things, he was a guy who put awareness in everything around him. He knew when to laugh about something but he also knew when to be serious or concern for some sensitive issues. There was no doubt he was going to be a great friend. Even his mom, a very protective mother who always alerted of who he became friend with, gave a silent nod, in just one week. That was a record.

"Sam!"

"Huh?" Sam looked at Jessica and Dean, didn't know which one of them called his name.

"You okay?" Jessica whispered with a concern face. The same look he got from Dean.

"What were you thinking, dude? We called you about fifth time." Dean added with a questioning look.

Sam looked at both of them. A grin formed slowly before he let out a chuckle. In some way, this was so funny. _I'd be so gay if I told them._

"Oh shit. He just got crazy." Dean shook his head and facing back ahead. Whatever Sam was thinking, he didn't want to hear them. Maybe the younger guy was thinking about stupid things, or perhaps it was like the other day when he started to talk a chick flick moment. Okay, he was fine with that, since he wanted to know more about his brother himself, but not in front of Jess. That was ridiculous. But possibly Sam was thinking about porn or something. Dean shivered.

_Okay stop. Since when did I can't hear beautiful things about girl's boobs?_

"Ladies and gentlemen, how's your summer? I'm Professor Richard Fulton. Some of you already know me because I can see some familiar faces here. So something to get started, somebody please tell me about Abraham Lincoln and his politic?" a sudden friendly voice uttered from the front, silenced the noise for the whole class in just a few seconds. Sam was already opened up his book with Jessica started to concentrate to the speech up front.

Dean held his chin and elbowing the table, trying to do the same thing, concentrate. But his mind felt funny about this. _Just what the hell am I doing here?_

------

Mary clicked the submit button and rest her back against the bed post, waiting for the article to completely uploaded to the headquarters. She heaved a sigh filled with satisfaction. Not to be biased but she was so certain that the article titled 'Children Soul with Parent's Brain' would get a bye from Harry. She worked too long under the old man to know him well enough, made it easier to write her entry every issue. She knew how to please the magazine Mind, Body & Soul's boss with her articles but at the same time didn't discard all the points she wanted to say. It was a win-win situation.

Sixteen years ago, it was hard to get her place in the magazine. But for the love of the profession, she put her disgrace aside. She sent her articles every week just to be rejected by the editor. Besides she had a lot of free time since she was a housewife. So it wasn't a problem at all. And one day, an article she wrote for a personal purpose won her, her own column. It was Dean's birthday but at the same time the anniversary of his death. She wrote a story about a mother who lost her beloved son to something she couldn't fight, about how much the lost effected their whole life. It was an article about mother's love.

She sighed. That was sixteen years ago. And she still loved her job now. The supports she got from her husband and son were awesome. And the best thing was, she worked from home. Internet made thing easier nowadays. And all her articles got a good responds from the readers. Some of them created a little controversy too.

A chime sound knocked a hello from the laptop. A new email from HFF131410N. She smiled. This was one of her constant readers. Everytime she wrote something basis on life and death, she got a long argument from this reader. But she loved that, because this reader successfully changed her perspective for a few time, and sometimes even altered her old time judgments. She needed to admit that this reader was smart. And it was good because she could broad her view to determine something.

"Hey young lady. What are you doing on the floor? May I join in?"

"John honey, I'm not young anymore. If I am, I'm going to leave you for another guy because I don't want an old man as my husband." She giggled when John pinched her nose. He sat next to her, leaning against the bed post and threw his right arm over his wife shoulder. He moved the computer which was on Mary's lap a little to make a better look.

"Oh, it's that reader again. Look at that. I think it's the first time she ever agreed with your article."

Mary looked at the unshaved handsome face with a frown, "and how do you know it's a woman? Maybe it's a guy."

"Nah, I doubt that. Men never read your magazine especially your articles. It's a… ouch!" he rubbed his arm. That hit he got positively shaped a bruise. _Phew, what a woman._

"There, if you ever said something about my work again, no dinner for a week." She mocked a grim face but quickly resigned when John made a puppy dog look, trying to get her sympathized. She chuckled after getting a light kiss from John.

"Oh, you sure are naughty." Then she kissed him back.

------

He swallowed down all the pills in one gulp and finished up the water before closing the bathroom cabinet. Dean looked in the mirror, rubbing his lower face a little. _Hmm, could use a shave tomorrow._

"Dean?" a rough voice heard from the room.

"Yeah dad. In a minute." He pulled the tap and washed his hands before heading back into the room. He looked at the tired old face in front of him. Alan sat at the edge of the king sized bed, folding his tie and pushed it into his pocket.

"Hey son. How're you feeling?"

Dean smiled, took a place alongside his father. "Fine, dad. You are late today. So, everything's done at work?"

"Yeah. It's been a week here now. Take me the whole week to settle up all the transfer's documents."

"Sorry, dad. For dragging you along with my problem." Dean sighed. It was really a guilty feeling when his dad wanted to move along with him because Alan just started a stable life in Texas after years moving around the world to fulfill the job requirement.

"Dean, we talked about this before. I want to be with you no matter what. Your problem is mine too. Besides, the new office is quite interesting, the people are friendly and it's a nice city. What else would I ask for? I'm happy Dean as long as you are. This is the least I can do for you son. After all, you are the one who needed to follow me around the world all these times. Let just say I'm paying my bit." Alan squeezed the younger's shoulder.

They sat in silent for a moment. Alan threw his gaze around the room. There was a desktop computer on the table, showing a running downloading process. And just beside the desktop, was a laptop, also activated. Two computers running at once, definitely showing that his son was working on something right now.

"What are you up to? Got a new project?" Alan asked.

"Not new. The company wanted me to look at the system. Some client complained about their RFID card was not working. I'm downloading the files. Maybe need to reprogram." Alan nodded and smiled proudly.

At young age, Dean was already one of the lead programmers in the company. He was the youngest in the electronic systems department and produced a lot of system programs under his belt. He got the job as soon as he graduated from MIT. But since he had being diagnosed with the cancer, he slowed the job a little. And after he made the decision to come here to get knew his biological family more, he decided to resign. But he was one of the most precious employees the company ever had, so they made a new deal. Dean could work from home and he got his paid based on how much the works were done, not monthly salary anymore.

Sometimes, Alan wondered how come his son can be a geek boy but at the same time didn't have the character of any geek he ever knew. Dean hated books if he needed to sit for exams but loved them after finishing the papers. How was that possible? Alan chuckled. That was the reason his Dean was so special. Because he was different.

Dean watched his father reached his Stanford's ID student card from the small table next to the bed. Alan studied the card for a while before looking up at him, geared up with a question. "How's your class?"

"It's funny when you asked that, dad. I've never heard of them for a few years. I'd say the class was boring. Never understand how these people want to be a lawyer."

"Oh yeah? Then maybe they'd never understand why you love your job so much too." Alan smiled.

"Okay, you got me." Dean grinned broadly. Alan looked back down to the ID. "Is it really okay you do this? This is pretty illegal you know?"

Alan knew there were a few possibilities for his son to get caught. Dean was using his expertise in the field to hack the Stanford's database and built a new profile under his name to be one of the institution's members.

"Like I told you, this is the only way dad. Don't worry about that okay. It's not like I'm hacking a bank to steal or something. I just want to be with Sam. I'd get to know him better this way." As soon as Sam's name uttered, Dean could see a slight sadden in the old eyes for a tenuous second. He knew Alan still afraid of losing him for these _unknown_ people who occurred suddenly in their life. So he tapped his father's left knee firmly, let the contact alone reassured the old guy that everything would be all right.

Alan inhaled a deep breath before let out a sigh. He got up from the early posture.

"Well, it's near midnight, son. Don't stay up to late. You have classes tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, night dad."

"Night son." Alan squeezed the back of his son's neck a little before ambling out of the room, closed the door and cornering the way to his own chamber.

Dean strolled to the computers. He leaned closer to the table, caning his upper form with his left hand, didn't bother to take a sit. He checked some of the files in the laptop, made sure everything were okay before turned it off. Switched to the second computer, he looked at the estimated time for the download to complete. It was a big file so there were still several hours to go, so he just signed out his email and messenger, planning to let the computer on through the night.

He waited a few seconds for the signed out message appeared, yawning a little, ready to sleep.

"_HFF131410N successfully signed out."_

He turned the monitor off.

**TBC**

**SM**

**AN: How was that guys. It's kind of hard to find a plot for Dean and Mary. So I made up the writer&reader story. **_**Little Chief **_**in this story is kind of borrowed from the movie Frequency. PLEASE REVIEW! I'M BEGGING YOU! PLEASE!!!! PLEASE!!!! **


	4. Rescued

**AN: **Hey guys. Sorry for a long hiatus. I didn't mean it to be this long and I'm sorry. Life's getting busy and this story was kind of hard to be expressed into words. I've got a new beta here for this story. Thanks a lot iluvsprntrl. She must be the most patient person I ever knew in this virtual world. Well all my betas are really patient because my English is suck and I just found out that there were a looooooooooot of mistakes in this chapter. Hmmm... Just wonder how you guys could stand my previous 1st and 3rd chapter without being betaed. But thanks anyway. Really appreciate it.

**Summary&Disclaimer: **See Chapter 1.

.

**Chapter IV**

**Rescued**

-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-0-o-

.

_January 24, 1984, Arkansas River, Kansas…_

A man sat by the river with a bottle of beer in his hand. He didn't bother to find another comfortable place; he just lay down on the ground covered with small stones. His eyes were red from crying and his hair was a mess. There was a mending cut just below his hairline. And his unshaved face along with stinky clothes aggravated his look. Three bottles of empty beer lay motionless not far from him, ready to gain the tally.

Alan looked at the photo in his hand. Two smiling faces were looking at him, a beautiful woman hugging a small blond hair boy in her arms. They were beautiful, they were happy. Alan heaved a shaken breath. He was also happy back then but now he was alone. They were gone. His wife and son were gone, leaving him with regret as a burden to be carried unwillingly.

He could remember distinctly their faces, their laughs, their voices, singing along with him as he drove the Volvo out of the town. It was a dark cold Tuesday night. They were just celebrating his promotion as the new marketing manager in the insurance company and on their way back to their home. He was too happy, too glad with his life, causing him to become careless that night. As he speeding down the road, he was enjoying the felicitous moment too much and not aware of a big black truck running down the way when he turned into the corner of the junction.

He woke up the next day in the hospital just to find out that Laura and Harry couldn't be saved. They left him alone. And to worsen the guilt he felt, he just had a few cuts and a concussion when he should be the one who died in the accident because it was entirely his fault.

Alan wiped the tears before putting his elbow on his knee and ran his hand through his hair which was dark brown even in his late thirties. He looked up to the cloudy sky and shook with a sob. It was going to rain. The sky was dark with abrupt lightning emitted from cloud to cloud. He closed his eyes. Even the world was sick with him.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered alone.

He looked back down to the photo before put it firmly into his pocket. He started to gather himself up, swaying a little but managed to stand up. Alan looked at the middle of the river; the water splashed along the riverside and flowed rapidly to his right. A few branches could be seen floating along with the water. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to shut out all the voices around him, just to hear his own voice from his mind. _Just do it. Just do it._

He fluttered his eyes open.

One step in front of the other, Alan brought his frame to the river bank. He had no desire to turn back anymore; he put his left foot into the cold water followed by the other. The water temperature didn't register in his mind for even a second. He just propelled into the deep water more and more until he could feel the water reached his chin. He stood up straight from his little crouched position so the water level went down to his shoulder. He looked at the sky once again but not like before, this time with a small smile plastered on his face. _I'm coming Laura. Daddy's coming Harry Boy._

THUD!

A hard object almost knocked him forward. His dazed head that full with self-destruction mind pulled back into reality. Alan frowned. He stunned for a while before turned his head to look at the object that disturbed his action just now. His eyes widened in shocked. It was a floating piece of wood that halted against his back but that was not his main focus because gripping hard to the wood and lying face down on it was a little boy, who was soaking wet and looked a lot like Harry from the back!

"Harry?" He knew he was crazy when he uttered the name because deep down his heart he also knew that boy was not Harry.

Alan reached the floating boy from behind. The blue shirt with a short khaki he wore couldn't hide the bluish color from the boy's exposed skin. Alan even wondered if the boy was already dead. But a twitch of the small fingers snapped him from his thought. The boy was still alive. Alan pulled the still shoulder to face him but the limp form nearly fell down into the splashed water. He gathered the boy quickly into his arms. He could feel the small figure shivering hard against his chest. A few gashes appeared from the pale face. Within the wet blond hair, he could see a red wound that still bleeding slowly.

_Do something Alan. This boy needs your help._

A voice in his mind moved his foot closer to the riverside and his pace faster and faster until he reached his truck not far from there. He snatched the blanket from the back and struggled to wrap the boy with the grey afghan before laying him carefully on the passenger's seat. He positioned himself behind the steering wheel, setting down the boy's head on his lap before geared the car up onto the road.

He just drove through the unknown place. He didn't even know where he was right now because he spent the previous night driving the car nowhere until he arrived to the river. But he thought he saw a clinic not far from there and he hoped he was right because the boy really needed help. He fingered the boy's neck; the pulse was weak but steady. His main concern was the hitched breathing. Only God knew how long the child was floating like that in the cold water. He was so relieved when he saw the emergency sign of the clinic. He pulled over the car in front of the entrance and carried the weight of the boy in his arms.

A man wearing a blue garment stepped out of the door walking to a parked car when he saw a man with an unconscious child rushing toward him.

"Oh God! What happened?" The man jogged closer to Alan and tried to take the boy from his arms. Alan looked at him in confusion.

"Oh I'm sorry, sir. I'm Dr. Parker, the owner of the clinic." At the honest answer, Alan let the boy drop into the doctor's arms. Dr. Parker rushed into the clinic, mouthed an urgent order to his nurse to prep the room while Alan just trailing behind. When the doctor rushed himself into a room, Alan hesitated for a moment, he didn't know if he could be in there with them.

_Screw that. This is not a hospital._ Then, he strode into the room.

But that was his mistake, he couldn't help being shocked at the scene. His anxiousness was back. All he could see was his Harry, not moving while a doctor tried to rouse him back to life. The same blond hair really wrapped his vision. But when he saw the face, his mind snapped back. _He was not Harry, stop it_. Then he felt the dizziness start to rush into him.

"Sir, why don't you sit down for a while? Don't worry about your son he's going to be okay." He flinched a little at the word 'son'. The nurse led him to a chair outside of the room and gave him a blanket which he accepted gladly. He covered himself up a little more when he felt himself shivering so much. Alan leaned against the chair. The warmth he got from the blanket and the heater started to help him clear his mind. It was then when he realized about what really happened back there at the river.

_Oh my God. I was just going to kill myself._ Alan gasped because he had never thought that one day he was going to do that. He knew Laura and Harry might never accept that kind of action even if he did it for them. He fixed his eyes to the room's door before him. _And that boy just saved my life._

"_Don't worry about your son he is going to be okay."_ The nurse's words were clamped in his ear, echoed in his head._ "…your son is going to be okay." _Alan straightened up his form. A crazy idea just burst into his mind.

His gaze never left the door until it cracked open and Dr. Parker walked straight to him. Alan stood up, towering an inch more than the doctor. He removed the blanket from his shoulder and put it aside on the chair. The sincere concern etched on his face. The doctor looked into his eyes with a small smile.

"Mr…"

"Smith. I'm Alan Smith."

"Mr. Smith, he's your son right?" _That was one._ But Alan didn't answer so the doctor just continued. "He is suffering from pneumonia and a fever. But we have enough equipment to treat the illness. Besides that, he also has a few cuts but nothing to worry about that."

"I saw the blood." Alan stated his voice abruptly.

"Yes, your son…" _Two._ "…knocked his head on something hard but apart from a slight concussion, there is nothing to worry about." When no words uttered from the taller man again, Dr. Parker proceeded. "He's not awake yet but I think we just need to wait and see. This is a small town so I bet you're not from here. We prepared a room for your son." _Three. _And that was enough to make him certain about his crazy mind.

"So, can I see-" His lips were trembling along with his heart. "…my _son_?"

------

Alan walked slowly into the room. There was a little teddy bear clasped in his hand. It was already three days after he found that kid. And he hated himself and felt ashamed when he realized that the boy really distracted his mind from the tragedy happened to his family. It didn't mean that he didn't care anymore but there was something about this boy. He should tell the police. Somebody lost their child but for his own selfish reasons, he didn't want to. It was not fair to them or to the kid. This kid shouldn't be a replacement for his lost son. But he couldn't help it, he just couldn't.

Alan sighed. He strolled closer to the still figure that lay on his side, facing his back to him. The boy woke from his long _deep sleep_ this morning when he was out to get some breakfast and the teddy bear. When he came back and the nurse told him that he couldn't see his _son _for a while because the doctor wanted to check him first, he got so nervous and afraid. He was afraid if they would find out about the boy that his name was not Harris Joseph Smith like in the registration form and Alan was not his real father.

But to load more onto his sins list, the boy had amnesia. He didn't remember anything about himself. Poor boy.

Alan pulled a chair beside the bed and sat himself down. To his surprise, when the boy was aware of his presence, he rolled on his back, pushed himself up slowly and sitting on the bed, fixed his gaze down. Alan could feel a warm feeling in his heart of the welcome gesture. But at one good look, he could see the uneasiness on the face and the green hazel eyes clearly showed fear and confusion. Guilt pitched his heart. He was so young but he was already shouldering a big problem by himself, alone.

"Hey." Alan said slowly. He waited for a reaction but there was none. Like Dr. Parker said, this boy was in shock; he just looked down on his lap and didn't say anything since he woke up.

"I brought this for you." He handed the teddy bear in view but the beautiful eyes stayed on the lap, unwilling to compromise. A small nasal cannula still hooked to the cute nose. Alan studied him for a while. In his eyes, this little child didn't look like Harry anymore. He was bigger than Harry, maybe five years old, a year older than his own son. Harry had blue eyes, nothing like his clear green hazel eyes. And this kid had beautiful long eyelashes.

"You know when I was a little boy like you, I didn't want a teddy bear like this too because it was just for girls. But my mom said it was okay to have it when I was sick." Alan said. His right hand put the teddy bear on the boy's lap but the boy just sat in silent. He took the advantage to touch the boy's hand. He could feel the trembling hand in his. At first the boy tried to pull his hand away but when Alan didn't try to pull back, the boy stopped, letting this _stranger_ rubbed his hand slowly.

The boy looked to the _stranger _from the corner of his eyes. The doctor and nurse had said that this man was his father. So he shouldn't be afraid of his own father, right? But still he felt his head was empty, he didn't know what to think. He didn't know this man.

Alan smiled at the response. But he didn't want to startle the boy more, so he just sat there, chatted about everything that crossed his mind. And he was happy when he saw the boy relax a little more then before. For the whole day he didn't go anywhere, he didn't want to leave the boy alone. He wanted the child to know him, and accept him. This was like a new Harry for him.

------

That night it was a warm and the boy was already asleep. Alan read a book he borrowed from Nurse Abby. But he didn't heed the book's content. His mind was crawling far away from it. He looked at the sleeping boy. He knew he wanted to do this. But he still doubted his actions concerning taking this child as his own. He knew this was an illegal action, a big crime. He had a friend and money to settle this thing for him but his mind still debated whether to call his friend or not. In his head chanting a few more possibilities, he drifted into a deep sleep.

Until he woke up when he sensed that somebody was peeking silently at him. He opened his eyes slowly. Instead of who he expected, it was the boy who lay on the bed, facing him and gave a close looked at him. In the dim light, he could see that there was fear in the eyes. The boy was afraid of something.

"Hey, buddy. You okay there?" Before Alan could reach him, suddenly the boy rose up from his bed, trying to step down to the floor. And when he was successfully stood up, he looked at Alan.

The boy was holding a sob. A small hiccup freed from the shaken pinched lips. There was nothing else that could wrench the older guy's heart into pieces like that. So he offered his hand which was surprisingly welcomed by the boy who launched himself into Alan's chest, crying himself out.

"Shh…shhh… It's okay. It's okay." Alan rubbed the boy's back smoothly, hugging the curled figure who rocked into his chest, gripping his shirt hard. Trying to avoid the small tube that was hanging from the oxygen tank attached to the boy's nose, he cradled the child in his arms until the boy succumbed into a deep sleep again.

Alan wiped his tears which unconsciously emerged. He kissed the boy's blond hair lightly. He felt so sorry for the boy. Somehow he could understand how it felt to wake up not knowing what to think or what to do, or who to trust. It was a horrible nightmare.

"Don't you worry, kid. I promise you will never feel lonely again."

o0o0o0o

_Present; California…_

Alan wiped the photo frame before put it beside another stood photo on his big table. It was a picture of younger Dean and himself in front of the Eiffel Tower a few years back when he worked in France for a couple of years. And another one was the picture of his late wife and Harry. It was a busy first week and he couldn't even have time to arrange all the things from his box into the office. It was just now he managed to steal his break to get all the things settled.

Alan fixed his eyes to both photos. He could remember clearly the first conversation he had with Dean, and it was the first time ever the boy opened his mouth after they met. And it was the day when he took the boy home.

"_Come on Harry. We are home." Alan said while standing next to the boy's door. He didn't mean to replace his Harry with this boy but he couldn't help it, he kept calling him as Harry._

'_Harry' just fixed his eyes on his lap before a small voice uttered from the little lips. "Dean."_

_Alan widened his eyes and gasped both in shocked and excited. The boy said something. He was just talking to him. And it was just a lovely voice. "What?" Alan demanded a repetition but with a careful tone. And he couldn't hide his smile anymore when the kid looked up at him with trembling eyes but ready to talk more._

"_My name is Dean."_

_Alan's smile faded. "You… remember?" _

_But the boy drew back his eyes on his lap. Alan could feel his hand shaking. He didn't want to lose this boy. He just started to love him. He didn't want to be alone again._

_But like a magical spell, his worry was over just in a shake of head. "No. Just my name." Then the boy looked up again, but this time his eyes filled with confusion, and tears. "Why are you calling me Harry? You're… lying to me. You're not my dad." And then he started to sniff, holding his sobbed. He liked this guy but he was not his dad. And he was scared._

_Alan looked at the boy for a long time. The tears wrenched his heart one more time. He couldn't stand it anymore. So he picked up the boy from the seat and hugged him so hard. The boy let out tears on his shoulder, wrapping his arms around the older guy's neck. "Hey I'm sorry… for calling you Harry. I'm sorry. You're Dean. My Dean. And I'm your dad. Don't you ever doubt that, baby. I'm your dad."_

"_Really?" the words mumbled on his shoulder with a sob. The arms wrapped his neck harder than before._

"_Really. I promise."_

_After a few moments, Dean pulled his hug, wiping his teary eyes. "So, who's Harry?"_

_Alan smiled. He swallowed a little. "He…" Alan inhaled a deep breath before continued. "He's your brother." He didn't know where it came from but he just said it. "Hey, Dean. Why don't we get inside and I'll tell you a story about your brother… and your mother." The little guy nodded before once again landed his head on the broad shoulder._

_Alan walked inside, holding the small child in his arms. He just got his son back. Not Harry but a new son. He just got a new son. His lips formed a smile._

Alan wiped his unshed tears. It was just one of the best moments in his life. Having a son like Dean, he would never turn back. He would never regret it because Dean was the best thing ever happened to him.

TBC

SM

**How was that guys? Tell me please. But I wanna say that a lot more will come about the Dean-Winchesters relationship and Dean will start to be sick again after a few more chapters. Lets hope he gets what he wants before... you know... So REVIEW please.... :)**


End file.
